


Help You Heal

by essentialflowers



Category: Sanvers - Fandom, Supergirl
Genre: Bromance, F/F, LGBT, Lesbian, Sanvers - Freeform, Supergay, Tiny Detective, supergirl - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-04-18 14:26:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 9,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14215146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/essentialflowers/pseuds/essentialflowers
Summary: "You're real, and you deserve to live a real, full, happy life. Okay?”A mix of a bunch of different one-shots.Bonus points for no Mon-hell.

If you have requests, please leave them on my tumblr: @essentialflowers





	1. Chapter 1

The first time she’s late for something important, she frets. 

She frets, because it’s their six month anniversary dinner and she’s an hour and a half late and she bought new lingerie and _damn it, J’onn, why couldn’t you save overtime rookie training for another day?_

She frets, and she digs her nails into the inside of her palms until they bleed, and a jumble of apologies leave her mouth before she’s even halfway through the door.

“I’m _sorry_ ,” she whispers, eyes flooding with tears. “Time got away from me and I, I just-“ 

“Hey, hey, hey, Danvers, _sweetie_. It’s okay,” Maggie cooes, latching onto her hands and bringing them to her lips, pressing gentle kisses along patterns of red, angry marks. “It happens to the best of us, don’t worry about it.” 

Alex sighs and shakes her head, before breaking free of her girlfriend’s grasp and pacing across the apartment. Maggie studies her small, hurried steps for what seems like minutes on end, watching the way Alex's eyes plead for her to forgive her and how her body begs for her to take her into her arms and _hold_ her. 

“I’m really, really sorry, Mags.” Her voice is small, defeated; Maggie can’t help but smile softly at this woman. 

This woman who has killed before, taken a life before,  but still worries about showing up late to dinner dates. 

The woman she’s in love with, so inexplicably and devotedly and proudly.  

“Did I ever tell you how gorgeous you look today?” 

Alex’s cheeks tinge red as she gives a small, flustered smile. “ _Maggie_.” 

“Because,” she continues, inching her fingertips up and across her arms, curling them around her hair. “You look absolutely radiant, as always. And I’m _so_ happy you’re home.” 

Her eyes flutter shut at the feeling of complete safety, complete feeling of love, complete feeling of _home_ seeping out of Maggie’s voice; she lets it sink straight into her soul. 

But her eyes, they're still guarded, and they flit up to her face last time, to make sure. 

“You’re not mad?” 

Maggie shakes her head, a look that means _you’re silly and I love you_ for it spread across her features, delicate but fierce, soft but as hard as steel. 

“No, my love. I’m not mad.” 

“Okay,” Alex relents, nodding, waiting, before clapping her hands together and promptly taking off her jacket. “Okay, good.” 

And later, as they warm up their Taiwanese food, as Alex finally leans in to taste Maggie’s lips after a day spent apart but yearning for that closeness she’s come to adore, they’ll sit on the couch and melt into each other, a tangle of limbs, and whisper about anniversaries and a lifetime of firsts and _I’m so glad you came into my life, Sawyer_ and _me too, Danvers, me too_. 

Alex is home with Maggie Sawyer, and she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story already has over 150 reads and it’s only been, like, five hours!!! :D Thank you!!!
> 
> Okay so here’s the necessity to every one-shot collection: the coffee shop AU. 
> 
> I hope you like it! Drop requests down in the comments below or on my tumblr (essentialflowers) 
> 
> <3

She doesn’t even know the woman.

The woman with those _eyes_ and that halo of red hair and the legs that go on for miles… and miles… and _miles_. (She swears she isn’t leering but, God, is it getting hot in here?)

She doesn’t know her. She hasn’t even spoken two words to her before but she can’t help this pit of fire, bright and burning, in the center of her chest, spreading to other parts of her body. Parts left empty and cold by other women in the past, after they leave her bed empty and leave her body twisted in a mess of tangled sheets.

She doesn’t know her.

But she can’t help how much she _wants_ to. She sees her every Monday morning- sometimes Thursdays, too- hunched over a pile of papers, sipping her cup of coffee like it’s the last thing she’ll ever need in her life.

Maggie’s never gotten the chance (the privilege) to serve her before, that’s Mgann’s job; she just makes the drinks.

The pretty woman always orders a large coffee with milk and two sugars. Maggie guesses she doesn’t like the bitter taste that she, herself, is accustomed to- but that’s okay. She just takes that little bit of knowledge about her and stores it away for later, for mornings spent over breakfast and coffee after nights of skin and …

“Are you okay?”

Somewhere along her train of thought- her very _imaginative_ train of thought- she’s failed to notice that the drink in her hands has overflowed and that the woman with the long legs and universe eyes is, indeed, standing behind the counter, in front of her, gaze fixed on the puddle of espresso on the floor. She scrambles to clean it up, completely mortified because _of course_ she does this, because she’s a total fuck up, because she never gets _anything_ right.

But the pretty woman isn’t laughing or sneering; she just looks concerned.

“It looks like you burned your hand pretty badly.”

Maggie looks up, eyes wide. The pretty woman is frowning but her eyes are still warm.

“I’m fine,” she says, even though it stings like a motherfucker and she _knows_ she’s going to have to ice it later.

“No, you’re not.”

Maggie narrows her eyes. “What are you? A doctor?”

“Yes, actually.”

_Oh god oh god oh god._

_She’s beautiful and she’s caring and she’s smart._

Something inside her twists uncomfortably.

“ _And_ ,” the woman continues, reaching into her jacket pocket, pulling out a business card. “I want you to call me if the burn doesn’t get any better within three to five days.”

She hands it to Maggie over the counter, her smile confident and genuine and everything Maggie never knew she needed.

She glances down at the laminated piece of paper and grins.

Her name is Alex Danvers.

Alex, Alex, Alex.

She looks back into her eyes, quirking an eyebrow. 

“And it if does?” Her voice is shaky but, god, she hopes it sounds sexy because she thinks- hopes- that this woman is hitting on her.

“I’d still like for you to call me. That is, if you want to…” she glances down at her name tag pinned onto her coffee-stained apron. “ _Maggie_.”

Maggie doesn’t know how to speak anymore because her name coming from this woman’s lips is the hottest thing she’s ever experienced so she just nods, fast and sure and just on the borderline of desperate.

Alex grins.

“Perfect.”

 

Yeah, it really is.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sanvers Tinder AU :,)

So, you used Tinder for the first time in your life.

You didn’t know what to make your bio because half of your profession is sort of a secret so you just said that you’re a doctor.

Winn laughed when you showed him your profile picture of you standing awkwardly in the middle of your room.

“Did you use-“ _wheeze_ “-the timer on the camera to take that?”

“... _No_.”

(Yes.)

  
You matched with a woman named Maggie Sawyer and she’s beautiful and she seems so smart and you’re not sure she’s actually real.

Swiping through her pictures once, twice, five times, you’re surprised when she sends you a message.

  
_Hello, Dr. Danvers._

  
Your eyes widen and a grin takes over your face before you can really stop it.

  
_Hi, Maggie Sawyer._

You pause, and add,

_And you can just call me Alex._

  
Typing.

  
_Okay, Alex._  
_Just making sure- you’re into women, right?_

  
You snort.

  
_Yes I am._

  
More typing.

  
_Thank god._

 

You didn’t really message her for a long time after that because Kara called and you had to go and save the world, but you did manage to set up an actual date. At an actual bar. With Maggie Sawyer.

Kara squealed when you told her and then squealed even louder after you showed her the pictures of Maggie.

Of her standing by a koi pond, of her wearing this leather jacket that makes your heart thump erratically even though it’s just a _jacket_ , of her standing next to a motorcycle. Her _riding_ said motorcycle.

“Alex, if you mess this up, I’ll kill you.”

And you won’t. You won’t. You won’t. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the Tinder AU!
> 
> Also- I've been posting so frequently because I'm on spring break, at home, on my laptop, all day. (I'm in high school so once I'm back I might not update as often because, you know, stupid homework. But I'll try really hard!)
> 
> Sending love to everyone who reads this and gives kudos and comments! Y'all are seriously making me blush like crazy. I want to be a writer one day so posting fanfiction gives me practice and an opportunity to show my work to other (awesome) people!! So thank you!!!

She’s laughing. 

God, she’s laughing because you told a stupid joke and her head is tilted back and she thinks you’re  _ funny. _

You decide you want to make her laugh for as long as you can.

She looks really pretty under the fluorescent lights of the bar-  red flannel, hair tied back in a low ponytail. You  _ told  _ her how nice you think she looks. Several times, actually.

Once, when she first walked in, her confident strut and apprehensive look nearly knocking you off your stool.

_ "Are you Alex?" _

_ "Oh my god you're gorgeous." _

_ "I'll take that as a yes, then." _

Twice, in the middle of conversations about work and college and life.

You just couldn't help it- you  _can't_ help it.  You think she's smart and tough and so, so beautiful. 

“So, Danvers,” Maggie says, snapping her fingers to get the bartender’s attention. You would think it’s rude- improper human etiquette- but apparently she knows her, like, personally; she’s managed to get you both free beers.

You can’t help but wonder if she comes here often.

You can’t help but wonder how many other girls she’s brought to this very place, that she’s talked to and laughed with in this very spot.  

It’s none of your business, of course. But still; you  _ wonder. _

“Got any siblings?”

Your head shoots up and you nod, actively trying not to smile too hard into your drink.

“I have a sister named Kara and she’s  _ amazing. _ Like, the best person ever.”

Maggie grins softly and your insides feel all warm and gooey.

“That’s really cool. I don’t have siblings and my parents live in Nebraska, so…” She trails off, and you notice how hard her fingers are clutching her glass, how distant her eyes look.

How  _ lost  _ her eyes look.

You don’t know what to say but your hand snakes its way across to grab hers. She doesn’t look at you, but your fingers interlock and it feels like everything leading up to this moment was just temporary, just a filler because  _ this  _ is single-handedly the greatest thing you’ve ever done.

Holding Maggie Sawyer’s hand in the middle of a bar, on your first date, with free beers and butterflies in your stomach.

"You play pool, Sawyer?"

"I do," she says, the beginnings of a smirk forming her smooth and soft-looking and totally kissable lips.

"Best out of three?"

A pause, as she takes a gulp of her beer.

You watch her throat, the way it bobs as the liquid slides down, down, down./p>

"You're on."

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sanvers snow day AU! 
> 
> Happy Friday!  
> It’s supposed to snow tomorrow and I’m super sad because it’s spring and it’s supposed to be warm!!! I’m gonna write a strongly-worded letter of complaint to Mother Nature because this is just ridiculous.  
> Also, I went back to school today but a lot of people are still on vacation so most of my classrooms are close to being empty. So I wrote a LOT. Expect at least three chapters up within the next few days. 
> 
> Sending love to everyone!  
> <333

It’s a miserable day in National City.

And you feel like shit.

You woke up to a foot of snow outside of the entrance to your apartment, and your dumbass new landlord (apparently named Joe- you thought it was Jim) forgot to shovel.

So you pulled on your oldest snow boots and exchanged your leather jacket for a fluffy coat that makes you look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy because you have to go to work, you have to patrol the streets.

You’re a police officer, damn it.

Police officers are prepared.

And you _are_ , until you actually step outside.

Your bravado is all but diminished because it’s _cold_ and snow is pouring down on your head so _hard_ and your socks are already wet because your snow boots are _crap_.

You march onward, though, your galoshes sticking to the pavement with a wet slapping sound every time you lift your feet.

And that’s when you see her.

Alex Danvers, your secret agent neighbor and friend, standing on the crosswalk opposite you with her eyes closed, an umbrella held high over her head.

She does this every time it snows- walks outside with an umbrella- and you’ve always thought it was a little odd.

But it’s okay; she finds a lot of things about you odd, too. 

You chat with her over Chinese food dinners about shows and books and your professions and how dangerous yet rewarding they are and, _okay_.

She’s sort of, kind of, the coolest person you’ve ever met.

Which is why, when she looks up and sees you and waves you over, you want the snow to bury you alive.

Because you look like a marshmallow.

A soggy, wet, sad marshmallow.

You look like a marshmallow, but you can’t resist her cute grin and her slightly damp hair so you cross the street, anyway.

“Didn’t expect to see you out on a snow day, Sawyer,” she calls in greeting, making you frown and poke your tongue in between your teeth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing.” She sighs dramatically. “Besides the fact that you make fun of my snow umbrella every chance you get, yet you complain about getting wet every time it snows.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but on the inside you’re glowing because she knows these kinds of things about you.

“Well, yeah. Because umbrellas are made for rain.”

She scoffs. “Says _who_?” 

“Literally everyone!” 

“Well, my snow umbrella must work because _I’m_ dry and _you’re_ soaked,” she retorts, smirking her furiously familiar smirk that makes you want to grab her face and kiss her until she forgets about everything else. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Silence follows while you wait for the bus to take you to your job- it’s definitely not safe to drive your motorcycle on icy roads- but it’s not a bad kind of silence. It’s a comforting kind of silence. 

The kind that lives between quiet breaths and gentle touches and nights spent laying awake with freshly washed sheets. 

It’s the best kind of silence. 

“Wanna share?” 

You huff out a laugh, catching a snowflake on your finger and squishing it.

“What?” 

She sighs, gesturing to her umbrella. 

“Oh! Uh, no thanks, Danvers.” 

“But you’re really wet and you look like you’re freezing!” 

“I’m fine.” 

But apparently the word _fine_ means something else entirely because she suddenly moves really close to you- so close you can smell the peppermint gum on her breath- and wraps an arm around your waist and you feel like you can’t breathe. 

You’re completely paralyzed by her proximity but you don’t want her to move, and she must know this, because she giggles and steps closer so that you’re both huddled under the purple umbrella.

“See?” She leans down to whisper it directly into your ear and you shiver and it’s _definitely_ not from the cold. 

“Isn’t my snow umbrella great?” 

All you can do is nod, because it is, it is, it is.

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sanvers college au!! 
> 
> Also, happy Clexa Con! To all of my readers who are there- have fun! To my readers who aren’t (like me)- try not to burst too much from jealousy. I know, it’s hard. But at least you have the amazing slew of pictures people are posting of your favs!! (Isabella Gomez and Chyler?! Yes?!!!!) 
> 
> *I’m going back to edit this because I was just on twitter and heard the news about a possible “new love interest” for Alex and,,, I cried all the tears I have left. Chyler is an angel and I can tell she cares SO MUCH about sanvers and about her fans. And no matter what happens, I want you all to know that we are a family. Us, Chyler, Flo. We’re all here for one another and we’re in this together. <3
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter and the fluff that’s sure to ensue! Love you all. Hold onto your hope.

Man, you hate college.

Well, okay, scratch that- you hate college _work_. Loads and loads and loads of college work.

You’re majoring in environmental biology, and you love it. You love it so much and you’re amazing at it; you’re top of your entire class and sometimes, you know things that even the  _professor_ doesn’t.

But you’re also taking an economics course and a course on France during the revolution and a course on art history.

Those? You’re not so good at.

Those? You have to stay up late for, pull all-nighters for, stare at the top of the page for hours on end until the words _bleed into themselves_ for.

Well, that’s what you're planning on doing in the library tonight, anyway- coffee, three binders and a textbook deadweight in your arms.

You managed to sneak out of your dorm room, leaving Sam passed out on the couch watching reruns of Keeping Up With the Kardashians.

(According to your roommate, Kim is a business woman.)

You text Kara back, following her frequent messages of _don’t stay up too late_ and _drink water!_ and _love you, Al_

 _I’ll b fine,_ you respond. _Pizza and potstickers tomorrow? Bring Winn and James!_

_Perfect!!!!(!!!)_

You sigh fondly and shake your head, smiling at the thought of your little sister and your best friends, playing board games and stuffing your faces in a little over twelve hours.

If you even make it that long.

And you will, because you have to. Three quarters of your entire history grade is riding on this one exam and you’ll be damned if you fail it because you didn’t study hard enough.

Didn’t work hard enough.

You walk the short five minute trek to the English building and set your things up in the library- in your usual spot, behind the reference shelves. There’s no one else here, probably because it’s a little past eleven thirty on a Thursday, but still, you’re relieved.

It gives you space to mouth words with your lips and click the pen up and down freely, without wandering eyes from creepy guys or judgmental looks from people sitting at nearby tables.

You work solid, steadily, for an hour and a half, managing to make three graphs and memorize most of your index cards for your art history class.

You’re utterly exhausted but it doesn’t matter because you won’t be able to sleep anyway, knowing you still have time to study, to memorize, to learn, to-

“ _My loneliness is killing me.”_

Your pen stops moving across the page in tandem and you freeze, listening.

_“I must confess- I still believe…”_

Oh. You’re not alone.

_“...STILL BELIEVE!”_

A hand flies up to your mouth in an attempt to stifle your giggles but the person must hear them anyway because they stop singing.

“Hello?”

You contemplate whether or not to say anything but you can’t anyway because the mysterious person walks into your field of vision and your jaw is on the floor because she’s _Maggie Sawyer._

Star of the debate team, science genius, lives five rooms down from you so you always see her in the communal bathroom brushing her teeth.

Your crush.

Your big, hardcore lesbian crush.

“Alex?”

You wince because you’re in your pajamas and you must look like death.

“Heyyy, Maggie.”

She tries to smile but she keeps glancing around the room. “Did you, uh..”

“Did I hear your beautiful rendition of an iconic nineties pop song?”

Her eyes widen and she bites her bottom lip, nodding. 

“Yeah, I did.”

“I’m sorry,” she rushes to explain. “I thought I was the only person here because, you know, it’s one in the morning, and I sing when I’m stressed for some reason that’s still unbeknownst to me and I just-“

 “You wanted a quiet place to be yourself.” You smile gently because you get it, you get it, you get it. 

She takes a deep breath in and releases it with a smile, still uncertain but warmer- less exasperated. 

“Did I disturb you?” Her voice is meek and small and you just shake your head.

“Nope,” you say. “I was falling asleep anyway, and I’m pretty sure there’s pen all over my face.” 

She takes a step towards you, and you gasp lightly as lifts her hand up to your cheek, wiping it with her thumb. 

“There,” she whispers. “I think I got it.” 

You barely have to think before your next words come flying out of your mouth, rushed and desperate but perfect.  

“Wanna get out of here?” 

Your question hangs in the air, distilled, dangling in front of your faces. 

You’re shaking, shaking, shaking, but she’s grinning, lips curled up at the edges. You can clearly see her left dimple and you haven’t realized how much you missed it until right now.

”You asking me out, Danvers?” 

Butterflies. Bursting through your stomach so perfectly and wonderfully and it somehow makes you forget.

Forget you have a test today at twelve, that your entire grade for this semester is riding on how well you do, how much you know. 

You forget everything but Maggie’s raised eyebrow and the shape of her lips and-

“You know it, Sawyer.” 

It’s probably the time to take a break, anyway. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prompt about nicknames!
> 
> <3 
> 
> I’m ecstatic to see fans on twitter coming together to help each other out following the horrible news at end of Chyler’s Clexa Con panel. It shows that nothing the SG writers do can break us. We’re a family!

 

 

It started with little things.

Little nicknames, little tokens of affection that came with being at each other’s houses all the time. Living in each other’s clothes, eating each other’s food that their parents made for dinner.

They came while doing geometry homework sprawled out on Alex’s bedroom floor, legs dangled in the air, hearts thumping to the beat of whatever’s playing on the radio.

“ _Hey, Mags. Could you pass me those index cards, please?”_

Maggie’s face burned and Maggie’s hands shook because Alex gave her a nickname and she’s never done that before but Maggie loved it, loved it, loved it.

“ _Sure, Ally._ ”

She smiled secretly, giddily, to herself when Alex’s eyes grew wide with surprise.

A few more followed, after that.

A few more became dispersed into their normal conversations.

“ _Al! Did you see the new Star Wars movie yet? No? Wanna go with me, then?”_

“ _Magster, you’re a dork.”_

There weren’t a lot of ways to shorten the name Maggie, but Alex took to calling her different things.

Nerd, boo, cupcake.

They all translated to the same thing- _I love you enough to want to call you something special._

Maggie’s favorite, though, was simply best friend. It made her feel important, wanted.

“ _You’re my best friend, Mags. You know that right?”_

But then light touches became caresses and glances became burning gazes and suddenly they were more than best friends.

They were lovers.

And Maggie? She adored the slew of nicknames that followed _that_ even more _._

“ _Have a good day, love.”_

_“Hey, sugar-booger. Wanna come over?”_

_“Baby, I miss you.”_

These words, encased in text messages and midnight phone conversations and love notes passed under tables, carried her through days where her body was sore and her head throbbed and all she wanted to do was sleep and never wake up. 

These words were her soothing balm. Her bandaid on top of her scrapes and cuts and the kiss pressed gently on top of them. S _ee? All better._

These words? They were her home.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of Chy’s bday, here’s a short birthday prompt!! (Slightly smutty- nothing too graphic, though.) ;)

She’s never made her birthday an… _event_.

There’s always cake, Kara makes sure of that. And there’s always a small collection of texts displayed on her lockscreen when she wakes up in the morning, all wishing her a happy birthday with an occasional _I love you_ tagged at the end.

She recieves a _you make me proud, honey_ from Eliza, warmer than their usual conversations but still frigid, distant.

Her birthday is never an event. She doesn’t talk about it beforehand, she doesn’t plan parties or ask for gifts or make a fuss about what color the balloons are; Kara and Winn and James do all of that.

They decorate the DEO with banners and confetti and, one particular year, a piñata shaped like a cat. (She has to admit, she had a lot of fun with that one. Especially because instead of candy, there was weapons inside of the carcass. Tiny, handheld flash grenades.)

But, besides that, she didn’t expect this year to be any different.

She didn’t expect it, but she _should_ have.

Because, Maggie’s her girlfriend this year.

She’s her girlfriend, and she says that Alex deserves the pomp and the fuss. She says that she deserves a _real, full, happy life._

And who else would give it to her, except for Maggie?

So, she should’ve seen it coming.

She should’ve seen the hot, fluffy pancakes plated with strawberries and a dollop of whipped cream resting on her bedside table before she’s even woken up, along with fresh pot of coffee- light and sweet- with a newly- bought organic creamer.

Should’ve seen the kisses peppered against her throat, down her spine, further, further, further.

Between her legs.

The uttered words of love and adoration spoken into her like prayers, the way Maggie kept a steady hold on her hand the entire time, squeezing it tightly whenever Alex moaned. Whenever she screamed.

_I’ve got you, love._

_God, you’re so beautiful._

_You can let go now, Ally._

And, god, she did, all over Maggie’s tongue and lips and fingers.

Fingers that were still moving in slow circles, collecting her wetness like it was something sacred, something to be cherished.

She didn’t see it, and she should have. 

When they were finished, though- soft and sated and sweaty and clinging onto each other- was when she finally realized that this day was as much Maggie’s as it was her own.

That the _happy birthday, beautiful_ spoken from her girlfriend’s lips that bled into her own heart, her own skin, also bled into _Maggie’s_ heart, Maggie’s skin.

Because, they were girlfriends. They shared everything, from food and clothes and secrets and, hopefully, the rest of their lives. They shared _happiness_. 

Alex’s birthday was never an event.

But she’s starting to get used to the fact that, maybe, with this girl in her arms, it _can_ be. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it would be so cute to write an AU where Maggie is an elementary school teacher. I feel like she’d be so soft and good with kids!! (The stupid storyline just doesn’t make sense, sorry.) 
> 
> Also- to anyone who’s interested, I’m making a video project for Floriana and Chyler! Message me on my tumblr, @essentialflowers for more details! 
> 
> Happy reading!  
> <3

 

Kara made you do it.

“Come on, Alex,” she whined. “I’m not asking you for a huge favor. Just fifteen minutes of your time. A half hour, tops!”

”No!” 

You don’t like kids. Never did. They smell and they’re loud and their hands are always slimy even if they didn’t touch anything slimy.

You don’t like kids, and you certainly don’t want to _read_ to them.

The only exception is Kara’s kid, Liam, because he’s sweet and he calls you Aunty Ally and he wants to ride a motorcycle when he grows up. (Kara swears against it but she _flies_ on a daily basis so you think her judgment is a little off.)

You like him, you _love_ him , but you don’t want to deal with his little friends.

So you said no. You said no, but then, then your sister mentioned the teacher.

The very pretty, very gay, very available teacher.

Ms. Sawyer.

You’ve seen pictures of her and she’s gorgeous. Like, Greek statue-worthy, you think.

Liam constantly rants and raves about _Ms. Sawyer did this_ and _Ms. Sawyer did that!_

So you agreed. Obviously, you agreed.

What idiot wouldn’t agree?

Kara laughed at you when your cheeks pinked and your head dipped and you muttered out a small, “fine.”

(You’re totally getting her back by buying Li a drum set next Christmas.)

So, here you are.

Rocking back and forth in a chair with a picture book in your lap, seventeen small children in front of you, enthralled.

One’s picking its nose, and you actively try not to gag.

Because, she’s watching you. From across the room, leaning on a desk, a light smile playing across her lips like a million dollar violin- smooth and beautiful and haunting.

Her eyes are dark, dark, dark; the bedroom kind.

They’re bedroom eyes- you’d recognize them anywhere- and your face, it’s beet red.

You keep reading.

She keeps staring at you.

You read and you read and before you know it, you’re turning the last page. You don’t even realize it because you’ve immersed yourself in the words- partly so you don’t do something as stupid as _swoon_ under Ms. Sawyer’s heated gaze.

“Everyone,” she calls out, clapping her hands together loudly, the silly way teachers do when they’re trying to get attention. “Thank Ms. Danvers.”

You wince out a smile, and then send a genuine one towards Li, where he sits in the back, his front teeth missing but grinning from ear to ear like he’s just witnessed the greatest thing in the world.

The kids get up and start packing their things- backpacks and erasers and crayons and rulers. Your nephew looks like he’s talking animatedly to a friend, little hands flapping up and down excitedly.

“You’re good with kids.”

You jump as you hear her voice- soft, drawn out- from behind you.

“Really?” You can’t help but sound sort of surprised because you most certainly did _not_ feel good with them sitting up there.

“Yeah,” she says. “They really seemed to respond to you. I think it’s your voice.”

“My voice?”

“Mhm. It’s soft.”

“It is not.”

She tilts her head and giggles.

She fucking _giggles_.

You think you’re going to die.

“Yeah, it is. And you know what else is soft?”

Your eyes widen, they widen so big, as she slips a little note into the palm of your hand. It’s sweaty because you’re nervous but you don’t think she minds, because she’s still smiling.

She’s smiling and leaning into you, slightly, but close enough that you can probably count every eyelash, every freckle. 

“What-“ you croak, closing your eyes for a split second as she breathes hot air onto your neck. “-what else is soft?”

She pulls back. The space in front of you feels cold. 

“That’s for you to find out when we’re _not_ standing in a room full of first graders. You know- _I_ _f you want._ ”

A grin pulls at your lips before you can stop it; your heart feels like it’s soaring as you stare gently at this woman. 

“Oh, I want.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deaf sanvers AU! 
> 
> The main character of my original story is deaf so I wanted to see how well it translated to sanvers. (Spoiler alert: is very fluffy. Very cute.) 
> 
> My favorite fic author replied to me on tumblr today and I was so happy. I hope everyone had relaxing a relaxing Sunday! 
> 
> Happy reading! <3

 

They’re showing _La La Land._

Again.

To a room full of deaf people.

Well- okay. Not everyone in the theatre is deaf. Marge, for instance, just really likes subtitles.

You don’t understand why, but you don’t ask. You don’t judge. Because, you’re here watching them beside her, following the same blocks of writing at the bottom of the screen, attempting and failing to keep up with Ryan Gosling’s fingertips dancing across the piano.

This is the only theatre in all of National City that shows movies with captions. You’d be offended, but there’s only six people that truly need them.

You, being one of them.

You’re deaf. You were born deaf, and, no, you don’t know what went wrong. You don’t know why you couldn’t hear your mami call your name or the notes your papi sang into your ear.

You’re deaf, and watching boring movies in a dinky theatre is the only social thing you do outside of work, really. You’d normally watch movies at home on your laptop, but lately, lately, the thought of being alone completely terrifies you.

At least there’s people- five of them- who always come to the Thursday night showings, eating popcorn and drinking over-priced soda, bustling around you with the energy you can’t seem to possess.

But, today. It’s different.

It’s different because when you look around after the lights turn on, you spot someone new.

She’s standing up in the back, stretching her arms; you notice that her hearing-aids are bright blue.

She’s beautiful.

And, and she has a dog. A guide dog, probably. He sniffs around her legs and preens as she scratches the top of his head.

You want to talk to her.

You need to talk to her.

You have to-

 _Oh_.

A blonde.

She’s with a blonde, their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, holding the other close. They’re laughing about something and your heart deflates inside your chest.

Of course, she has a girlfriend. Of course, her girlfriend is beautiful like her. Of course.

You’re heading to your car when you meet her gaze from across the parking lot. Her eyes light up and she smiles really wide.

(It must do something to the inside of your chest because you feel like grasping it the way old people do in commercials for medication.)

She turns to the blonde girl to sign something, _I’ll be right back_ , and then. Then she’s walking towards you.

As she draws nearer and nearer, your heart beats faster and faster.

 _Hi_ , she signs, after she stops completely in front of you. She’s wearing a cool-looking leather jacket and you sort of want to ask her where she got it.

But, your hands. They’re gripping onto the side of your shirt for dear life because this woman is intoxicating. Everything about her is intoxicating.

_I’m Alex. I saw you in the theatre. You looked bored._

She’s smirking at you, you think. You can’t really tell, though- you’re too busy focusing on the way she wets her lips with her tongue. They’re thin, but you really want to kiss them. Like, really bad.

 _I’m Maggie,_ your hands float up to shape what you want to say. _And yeah, La La Land isn’t exactly_... you pause, searching for the right words. _My cup of tea_.

 _It sucks_. 

A bout of laughter bubbles from lips as you nod, whole heartedly agreeing. 

You stand there, staring at each other, until she takes her phone out of her pocket.

(Short nails? Check.)

_I have to go, but do you want to get coffee sometime?_

You try not to splutter but you think you are because you think Alex is asking you out on a date and you’re ecstatic but confused, confused, confused. 

_I would love to, but what about..._

Your eyes float over to the blonde, who’s busy talking to someone on the phone. Alex frowns but then scrunches up her nose cutely. 

_That’s my sister, Kara._

You make an ‘O’ shape with your mouth as realization and relief wash over you.  

She hands you her phone- _so we can make plans_ \- and you’re positively giddy as you type in your information. 

After you hand it back over, and she texts you so you have hers, you bid a friendly, fairly awkward goodbye. 

Youre going on a date with Alex; 

you walk home with a smile that can swallow a thousand suns. 

_Alex, Alex, Alex._

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Hope you're doing well. Here's a little prompt about Gertrude. :,)

“Mags. Please?”

“Alex. No.”

‘But-”

“No. No way.”

Alex rolls her eyes- not in a  _you’re annoying_  way but in an  _I’m alive and I’m so happy we get to fight about this_  way.

Because, she  _is_  alive. She’s alive because Maggie and Kara saved her and she wants a Pomeranian but Maggie doesn’t and something foreign is flooding through her veins at the thought of sharing a pet with her. Sharing a responsibility. She almost can’t take the way Maggie cocks her head to the side, or the way a smile is itching to peek out behind her solid stone expression like how the sun peeks out behind the clouds in the morning. Bright and beautiful and burning.

She almost can’t take it. Almost.

“Why, though?” she prods. “They’re fluffy and soft.”

“Because, Danvers. I don’t want a dog that yips and yaps all day.”

“But you have me! That’s basically me!”

Maggie sighs fondly and takes a step forward, picking up Alex’s hands and warming them in her own.

“A dog can’t do half the things you do to me, Alex.”

“Like what?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question with Winn sitting five feet away from us?”

His head shoots up from his laptop and frowns. “Hey! No sexy conversations while I’m trying to do work.”

“Stop talking, Schott,” Alex warns, but her eyes are soft as she turns back to face her girlfriend. “Maggie and I are going to discuss this elsewhere.”

Maggie quirks an eyebrow. “ _Are_  we, now?”

“Mhm. Somewhere private.”

“And what will we be discussing, exactly?”

Alex grins. “You’ll see, Sawyer.”

They don’t hear Winn’s groan as they leave to find the nearest empty janitor’s closet- they’re too busy giggling and bumping hips and thinking about how a lifetime of firsts includes bickering but how it’s still amazing, amazing, amazing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yesterday was Lesbian Visibility Day, and I decided to write a little drabble about Alex and Maggie pre-show. I imagine that if they met in high school they'd definitely be impossibly close. (Two science nerds in a pod.) I based this off a conversation I had with an old friend/ sort of girlfriend when we were both thirteen. We were really confused about our attraction to girls, and we used to spend summer nights talking about it in my backyard with our feet in my pool. I think about those moments a lot, and I feel like Alex and Maggie would've had them, too. 
> 
> Happy reading!

 

They’re laying on the grass with their arms resting beneath their heads, staring up into the night sky, when Maggie asks the question. Nothing but silence has filled the air for a while; an hour, maybe two. Just quiet breathing, quiet wishing. Wishing for more, maybe, on Alex’s end.  
  
“Alex?”  
  
“Yeah, Mags?”  
  
She averts her eyes away from the sky and turns her head, shooting Maggie an adoring smile when she finds her face staring back at her in the dark. It’s soft and pretty and Alex has to remember how to think, think, think.  
  
Maggie takes a deep, hesitant breath before speaking, and when she does it comes out in a whisper.  
  
“Does your mom know?”  
  
“Know what?”

A pause.

“That you like girls.”  
  
Alex’s eyes widen and alarm shoots through her system, running through her veins and stinging like poison. Is she that obvious? She doesn’t think so. She’s always careful with measuring exactly how long she stares into her friend’s eyes in order to deem appropriate, or how many long-winded compliments she gives her a day, or-  
  
“Because I saw what’s inside your notebook,” Maggie adds, smiling slightly, seemingly oblivious to the shit storm exploding inside Alex’s mind.

Alex heaves a sigh and close her eyes tightly, trying to block out the overwhelming urge to pick up her blanket and run far, far away.

“I wasn’t, like, snooping or anything,” Maggie backpedals, after a moment of tense silence, taking in the panicked look she’s receiving. “I would _never_ do that. It was just open on your bed and I saw-“  
  
“It was stupid.” Alex’s voice is cold and firm and as solid as she can possibly make it right now because she can’t let Maggie know. If she knows, she’ll leave her and then she’ll have _nothing._ Nothing but Kara and her superpowers and a mother that doesn’t love her the right way.

Her body is rigid and un-moving as she waits. Waits for Maggie’s disgust, for Maggie’s ridicule. Because she _wrote_ things in that notebook. Things about Maggie and her smooth skin. And the way her head tilts when she talks and the way Alex melts every time it does. The way she finds her home in Maggie’s laughter, the way she finds safety in her scrawly handwriting. She wrote about the things that buoy her when she feels herself floating out to sea. She wrote about the things that make her feel whole after a life of doing things in fragments. 

So, she’s waiting for the inevitable to hit and crush her hard. Crush her completely. She’s waiting, and she’s not breathing, and she feels as if the ground beneath her is crumbling.

She’s _still_ waiting as she hears Maggie take a sharp breath, as she feels her fingers glide lightly across her arm. The touch is gentle, soft opposed to the way Alex’s heart is beating inside her chest, fast and hard and terrified.

“I feel the same way about them, you know," she admits, hair hanging loose around her face, forming a halo on the grass beneath her. 

Alex raises her eyebrows in complete and utter shock and turns on her side to face Maggie.

“Really?” She chokes the word out, disbelieving and terrified and elated, all at once.

A small laugh bubbles from Maggie’s lips and floats straight into Alex’s soul, staying there, burrowing itself there.

“Yeah. About one, in particular.”

“Who?” Alex shuts her eyes again, because the way Maggie’s staring at her- it’s everything. It’s absolutely everything. It makes her feel small, but also makes her feel like the biggest person in the world just because it’s _Maggie_ ’ _s_ eyes studying her, gazing at her with an intensity like nothing she’s ever known before.

“The girl I’m about to kiss, if she wants me to.”

Alex can only breathe, can only nod, can only whimper because Maggie’s face is growing closer, closer to hers and her hands are splayed across her cheeks and their lips are melding together and it’s electric. It's absolutely electric, and Alex's eyes are still open for a second before she lets herself relax into the kiss. Her head is spinning but her smile, it's unattainable, and she hears Maggie giggle into her mouth. They part when they run out of air, gasping and trembling and reaching out for each other.

"I really like you, Maggie," Alex says, reveling in the moments after, their hands clasped together so tightly in between them she feels like it's the only thing anchoring her to the ground. "You make me feel safe and happy and, like, I'm a  _real_ person."

Maggie grins, the tears in her eyes mirroring Alex's. She's smiling that smile that looks as if she can break the world in half with just the sheer force behind it. 

"Well, Danvers. You're very real. Your feelings are very real."

"Well,  _you_  make me feel them."

Maggie does the head tilt thing and Alex swears the butterflies in her stomach turn into full-fledged birds, flapping their wings as they take flight inside her body.

"All the things you wrote about me," Maggie murmurs, after ten minutes of quiet breathing, quiet thinking. Quiet happiness. “Are they true?"

"Yeah, all of them," Alex replies softly, and bites her lip. "Is that okay?"

“Yes, Alex. Yes, that’s completely okay.”

”Good,” Alex says. She lays there, next to this wonderful human being, smiling up at the sky. She wonders, for a moment, if her happiness has become a physical entity. If it’s spilling out of her body and onto the floor, just because she knows she can’t hold it all in. 

“That’s really, really good.”

 

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. Sorry for the long time in between updates- I’m going through some personal health-related struggles right now. Nothing too bad, but I’ve felt like death all week and did nothing but watch reruns of The Office. 
> 
> Here’s a really fluffy pregnancy AU!! Sorry, SG writers, but I think Alex and Maggie would’ve made amazing moms. And Maggie would definitely be a nervous wreck of a wife. 
> 
> Happy reading!

“Do we have everything? Shoes? Shirts? Snacks?”

Your wife’s hands rest low on her hips as she paces across your kitchen, grabbing at random items and placing them back down. Her eyes are fire; they dart all over the room, left and right and up and down. You’re afraid they’re going to fall out of her head so you place a warm, gentle palm on the side of her face, silently calming her. She shuts them closed for a moment and leans further into you, pressing her forehead against yours.

“Relax, baby,” you murmur, once her breathing slows to an even pace. “We already packed an overnight bag this morning with what we need inside.”

“But do we have everything?”

“And more. Plus, my contractions aren’t even seven minutes apart yet. We still have time.”

She nods slowly. “We still have time.”

“We still have time,” you repeat softly. “Go take a shower, Mags. Maybe the water will help with your crazies.”

She smiles and rolls her eyes playfully, fingers stroking across your belly. You really do look like you’re ready to pop, and you feel like it, too. You never realized how strong and painful contractions really can be until you’ve nearly fell over due to the force of a powerful one. Still, you wouldn’t trade any of this for the world. You and your wife, your _sweetheart_ , you’re gonna be moms. The thought bubbles silently inside your chest, planting itself there like a seed into soil.

The seed rattles as she bends down, her face level with your stomach. You watch, in awe, as she lifts your shirt and presses kisses all over the skin.

“Your mamas are so excited to finally meet you, Little One.” She breathes the words out into the air around you; it almost sounds like a prayer. “We already love you so much. And so does your Auntie Kara, and your Uncle Winn, and your Grandpa J’onn.”

“He can be grumpy sometimes, but he’s gonna spoil you to death.”

She tilts her head back and laughs. You feel so safe and free in this moment, with the love of your life whispering promises of love to your unborn child. Really, little else compares.

“And Auntie Kara is gonna make you so many sweaters. She took a knitting class just for you.”

“Oh God,” you groan. “Are we gonna have to pretend to like them?”

She winces and nods, latching onto your hands as she stands up. You pull her in close, so close, as she does. She smiles and presses little mouse kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids. You feel something, deep inside you, click into place. You feel complete.

“Are you ready for this?” Your voice is bare, your voice is scared. But Maggie, she grins so wide, and so big, and just like that, you feel all of your worries fall away.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Yeah, I think I am.”

“You’re gonna be a great mom.”

An expression of hope blooms across her face. You know she’s trying to attain it, her hope. But it’s there, it’s present, and you feel it coursing through your veins, warm and giddy.

“You really think so, Al?”

“I _know_ so.”

You stand there for a few minutes, bathing in the shared knowledge that soon, your lives are going to change completely. Soon, you’re going to have a baby to hold in your arms, nestle against your neck. You’re going to take care of it and love it so completely and endlessly and joyfully. It’s going to overpower everything you’ve ever done but you’re _ready_ because you have this woman by your side.

“I’m gonna take a shower, ‘k?”

Her nervous eyes find yours and you just nod, smiling gently.

“‘K.”

“Call me if you need anything. And I mean anything. I’ll keep the door open so I can hear you and-“

You press your lips to hers, effectively cutting off her adorable rambling. You keep them there until you feel her giggle into your mouth.

“Or,” she gasps, breaking away. “We can just do this until Baby decides they’re ready to finally grace us with their presence.”

“Soon, Maggie. Really soon.”

Something new flashes behind her eyes, something sure and steady. Something people wait entire lifetimes to find, probably.

“I love you, Alex, and I can’t wait to be a mom with you.”

You feel so invincible. Like you can do absolutely anything with Maggie’s love and Maggie’s light as a guide.

“You too. Forever.”

_And ever and ever and ever._

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Wow, it’s been a long time. I honestly, really have no excuse as to why I didn’t update. I mean, I had finals, and music stuff, and health issues. But I could’ve found the time to update with everything going on. But I didn't. And I’m sorry. 
> 
> Here’s an angst chapter to make up for it !!! (Don’t worry, it has a happy ending.) This is how I hope the writers handle Maggie’s inevitable return. :,)

“ _Alex_?”

It’s raining and her hair’s soaked but she still can’t seem to get herself to move backward off the steps. She’s stuck, cemented to floor, staring up into the doorway like it’s the entrance into Heaven because it is, it is, it is.

“Hi, Maggie.”

It’s been a year and a half and. And she looks different. Her hair’s trimmed shorter and her face is thinner and, maybe some of her softness is replaced by sharp edges but she’s still her. She’s still Maggie.

Her expression is set in stone but her eyes hold the same warm pools of everything that once belonged to Alex and suddenly she doesn’t know why she came here in the first place.

“I’m sorry, I’m just gonna-“

“It’s pouring, Danvers.”

On cue, a bout of thunder cracks above their heads. Alex feels the vibration deep in her bones.   
  
Deep breath in, out.

“Can we talk, Maggie?”

 

She takes a seat on her couch. It’s still the same one she had in her last apartment, but everything else is new. New paintings, new table, new coffee maker. Everything, new.

“Would you like coffee?”

Alex winces at Maggie’s distant, formal tone. The tone she uses with people she doesn’t have time for. The tone she never used with Alex.

_She’s using it with you now. You’re the person she doesn’t have time for._

“No, thank you.”

Maggie nods, once, and pours a cup for herself.

“You still take it black? Gross.” She chances a small laugh, tracing the shape of Maggie’s body with her eyes. She misses it. Misses running her fingers down her sides and tickling her stomach and fucking her and feeling how soft she gets, after.

“Still need to keep my energy up, Danvers. Lots of criminals in this town.”

“You still working your ass off, Sawyer?”

Maggie snorts in response, her eyes glued to the mug in her hands. “Yeah, to the ultimate disappointment of my last girlfriend.”

Alex knows she shouldn’t feel jealous or upset because it their breakup was her fault, her fault, her fault but a _knife_ is lodged in her chest and it keeps twisting and she feels like she’s going to pass out.

“You had a girlfriend?” She tries not to let the hurt seep out of her voice but it’s there and it’s evident. Maggie looks up at that, looks into her eyes at that, and frowns.

“Yeah. For a month. She threw a fit about my late hours and then left me for some chick who works at the bar.”

“Oh.”  
  
Maggie just shrugs and rolls her eyes. “It’s fine.”

“She didn’t deserve you, you know.”

The pair of eyes that meet hers aren’t fire, aren’t the sun encaptured in two pupils, they’re just dark. Heavy. Sad.

“What did you come here for, Alex?”

“To apologize.”

Maggie’s bottom lip quivers and she sets her mug down, walking over to sit on the opposite side of the couch. The air around Alex is warmer now with Maggie beside her. She tries to breathe as much of it as she can because before she knows it, it’ll be gone.

“Listen,” Maggie says, voice like honey, hands clasped gently in her lap. “I forgave you a long time ago. What we did? It was right for you. And that’s all I care about, really.”

“But I still want to-“

“I’m not finished. I forgave you, but I can’t say it didn’t hurt. Because it did hurt. A lot. Especially because you didn’t even try to talk it out with me beforehand. You just decided you wanted kids and kicked me to the curb the next day. I was all alone, again. Abandoned, _again_.”

Alex’s heart nearly breaks inside her chest. She didn’t think of it that way, she thought her decision was best for the both of them, they couldn’t possibly continue with something as big as wanting kids dividing them. Could they?

“Maggie-“

“And do you know what the worst part about it was?” Maggie’s face is a mask of tears and a deep unshakable sadness; Alex feels everything crashing down on her head. “The worst part was that when you left, you took my family with you. You left me with nothing, Alex. Nothing. I built an entire world around you and your sister and your friends and your space dad. Do you know what I had when we broke up?”

Alex shakes her head, shutting her eyes so she can’t see the tears dripping down Maggie’s chin.

“The clothes on my back and the shell of the person you created. That’s it.”

Maggie smiles sadly and Alex can’t breathe. She cannot breathe because it feels like someone just punched her in the gut. She thought she was a mess after their breakup, but now she realizes that Maggie had it so much worse. Alex had Kara to cry to, Winn to laugh with. Maggie had _no one._

“I’m so sorry, Mags, I didn’t even reali-“

“I know. Which is why I forgave you, because I know you did it with the intentions of helping me. You have the biggest heart with so much love to give, Alex. You’re going to be the best mother.”

Something bubbles up inside of Alex, something big. Potentially life-changing. But she doesn’t care. It’s spilling out of her like word vomit but she _doesn’t care_ because she loves Maggie and-

“I don’t want kids if I can’t have you.”

Maggie’s face morphs into a blank slate, her eyes wide and serious. She doesn’t say anything for a while, just sucks her lips into her mouth.

“Alex, you can’t mean that.”

“But I do! More than I’ve ever meant anything. I’ve gone through these past fourteen months completely lost. Every time I get into bed I’m half-expecting you to be right beside me, sleepy and cuddly and warm and when I realize you’re not there, the same disappointment hits me and I just think to myself _what’s the point?_ What’s the point of going to sleep when you’re not there to kiss my eyelids when I wake up? What’s the point of fighting when I don't have you to come home to? I know I’ve-“ Her voice cracks and a sob ripples through her body, the force of it nearly breaking her in half.

“I know I’ve hurt you, and I know I don’t deserve any more chances because you only gave me one but I’m so tired of walking through life without you. I can’t promise I won’t be an asshole sometimes but I’ll be an asshole who’s here to stay. Forever, if you’ll have me.”

She can’t look up, not now. Not when her heart’s threatening to break out of her chest. Not when she just asked Maggie to get back together after hearing her tell her everything she’s done that’s hurt her. She can’t look up but then Maggie’s talking, and suddenly she feels the ground slipping out from underneath her like a rug.

“I’ve spent a year and a half trying to heal, telling myself I didn’t deserve my loneliness. I moved apartments just so I didn’t have to think about our crappy soap opera dates on my carpet every time I sat in the living room. Everything reminds me of you, and your smile, and your laugh. I’ve spent a year and a half trying to escape from that and become my own person again.” She shrugs, picking at the frayed ends of the blanket.

“And it worked, after a while. I dated someone, I went out and had meaningless sex and found myself sort of enjoying it. It was working, until you showed up on the doorstep soaked from head to toe looking as beautiful as the first day I met you on the tarp, offering to give up on having children to be with me.” She sucks in a deep breath through her teeth and Alex lets herself smile, just a little.

“Now I don’t know what to think. I want to give in to everything my body is telling and let myself love you again, let myself kiss you and hold you. But, part of the healing process is protecting your own heart. And I need to protect mine, so I can’t let you hurt it again. Because if you do, it may kill me.”

Alex is crying and she can’t see because of the tears in her eyes but she nods anyway. She’s too late. She wasn’t there to help Maggie heal to begin with and now that she is here, she can’t ruin the process.

She doesn’t deserve a second chance.

“Understood.” With that, she gets up and gathers her things.

“Wait, Alex-“

“No, no, Maggie. I get it, okay? I understand why you don’t want me in your life anymore. I understand that it hurts too much. I’m sorry I came here thinking you’d want me back after everything I did to you.”

She’s halfway out the doorway but a hand reaches out to grab her arm, stopping her.

“Wait, _please_.”

Alex sighs but stays where she is, trying not to melt into Maggie’s touch, firm but gentle, gentle, gentle.

“You didn’t let me finish. I can’t be with you in that way, not right now. But I can’t imagine my life without you in it, Al. You’re right, these past fourteen months were miserable. I missed you every single day and I still miss you now, even though you’re still standing here.” She huffs out a laugh and smiles shyly. “Can we be friends? Please?”

Alex wants to say no. She wants to break free and run through the door and down the stairs, all the way home. But then Maggie’s looking at her- really looking at her, the way she did before- and she feels her resolve cracking.

“Yeah, Mags. Yes. We can be friends.”

The smile she gets, after? All teeth and crinkly eyes and dimples? It outweighs anything else in the world. They still have a lot of talking left to do, about boundaries and apologies and guilt, but if Alex gets to see that same smile every day, she thinks it’s worth everything.

“Pool tomorrow night? Loser buys pizza.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My girlfriend is adorable. 
> 
> School is hard.

 

Maggie can’t decide what she likes most about Alex. It’s like clockwork, always changing with time.

During their first month living together- officially, in an apartment- it was her weird taste in music.

  
_“Babe, Kara would not approve of whatever this is.”_

_Alex rolled her eyes playfully, but continued to jam out to the song that was blasting through the speakers, a box full of things to unpack in her hands._

_“Her name is Björk,” Alex called out, “and she’s so cool!”_

_“Mhm.”_

_Maggie sighed and tried not to smile at her crazy girlfriend, watching her sway her hips as she stood on her tiptoes to stack a pile of dishes in their brand new cabinet._

_“Hey, shorty, can you reach?”_

_“Shut up!”_

  
Alex never listened to the same thing twice. Maggie was convinced she knew every musician in the world; the songs she sang in the shower changed every night.

  
_“Chickity China, the Chinese chicken! You have a drumstick and your brain stops ticking…”_

_Maggie tried to muffle her laugh as she passed by the bathroom, shaking her head._

_“The Barenaked Ladies? Really, Alex ?”_

_“They’re good, okay?!”_

  
By the time their seven year anniversary arrived, Maggie was sure she figured out the thing she loved most- the way she always wants cuddles.

  
_Alex and Maggie sat in their bedroom as the sky outside their home changed from hues of pink to dark blue. It was late, and Maggie had work in the morning._

_Maggie could feel Alex ’s eyes practically pierce through the side of her face and she looked up from her book, turning to face her girlfriend._

_(It’s funny how she can ignite so many feelings inside her, still.)_

_(Will it ever stop?)_

_(Does she want it to?)_

_“Do you need anything, babe?”_

_Alex ’s eyes went wide, and she smiled. It’s the kind of smile that makes Maggie feel so warm, that she’d be okay if the sun never decided to rise again._

_“Sorta.”_

_Maggie closed her book and opened up her arms. “Cuddles?”_

_She wasn’t prepared for the way her girlfriend practically flung herself onto her body, squishing her to the mattress in the softest way possible, the best way possible._

_“Yeah,” Alex answered, her voice gentle and happy and muffled by Maggie’s sweatshirt. “Please.”_

 

Maggie thought she was sure, so sure, that the way she planned proposals was her favorite thing about Alex .

  
_“I don’t want to live my life without you by my side. Always. It’s like you’re tethered to me, Maggie. Every little thing I do or say is attached to you and your voice and your laugh. Everyday I’m with you is like the best day of my life, over and over again in this gigantic cycle of you. And I wouldn’t want it any different.”_

_“Baby, I love you, but we’re in the cheese aisle of a grocery store.”_

_“And? It’s all about the element of surprise, Sawyer.”_

_“You dropped the ring on the floor before you could even pull it out.”_

_“Hey, don’t go there. You know I get nervous. But, also, I still have a whole other part of the speech I have to recite.”_

_“... Okay. Continue.”_

_“I just- Maggie. God, I don’t even- oh, screw it. Will you please marry me?”_

_“Of course. Was that so hard?”_

_“You’re sarcastic but don’t think I can’t see the tears in your eyes!”_

_“Stand up and kiss me, you fool.”_

 

Now she knows, through and through, that everything about her wife is all one big thing to adore. She could never just pick one.

(But the way she says _I do_ at the alter would be at the top of the list.)

 

 

 


End file.
